The garrison was quiet at this time of night. Most of the Dragoons were fast asleep in their bunks, no doubt exhausted from the day’s events. Draenor was a very beautiful planet, but that beauty was only skin deep as right below the surface were fierce challenges that natives and visitors endured daily. While Gozo had only encountered a few of these challenges on his trips to the Elodar fields to do trade with the farmers he heard plenty from those coming back from the farthest reaches of Draenor.

Henii sat at her desk, a crystalline light floating above it bathing the fine, lacquered wood in a soft glow. She dipped a quill in an ink pot and gave it a light tap on the glass lip. With a deep breath, she stilled her hand, then put the quill to her journal.